Page 115 of The Armor of Light
‘A great shame.’
‘There’s a little money left over, and they’re going to use it to start a book-sharing club.’
‘Well, that’s something, though it will do no good to those who can’t read.’
‘On the contrary, men join in order to learn to read.’ He looked over her shoulder and his face changed.
She turned to see what had caught his attention. Jane Midwinter was talking to Northwood. I might have guessed, Elsie thought. She heard Jane say: ‘Come to the buffet and get something to eat before you drink any more champagne. I don’t want you to disgrace yourself.’ It was the kind of thing a wife might say, or a fiancée.
Elsie turned back to Amos and said: ‘What will you do if Jane marries Northwood?’
‘She won’t. The earl won’t permit it.’
She persisted. ‘But what would you do, if it happened?’
‘I don’t know.’ Amos looked uncomfortable. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’ He brightened. ‘There’s a war on, and Northwood will have to fight sooner or later. If he’s killed in battle, Jane will be single again.’
That was heartless, which was uncharacteristic for Amos. ‘So you would just wait and hope.’
‘Something like that. Excuse me.’ He left her and followed Jane and Northwood.
Despair settled over Elsie. There was no hope for her. Amos would remain faithful to Jane even if she married someone else.
It was time Elsie faced reality.
I’m twenty-two years old and single, she thought. All I want is a house full of children. Bel Marsh is now Bel Hornbeam, and Deborah Hornbeam is now Deborah Riddick, and they’ll probably have children soon, while I’m still holding on for a man who loves someone else.
I’m not going to turn into an old maid. I must forget about Amos.
She got a glass of champagne to cheer herself up.
*
Arabella Latimer looked ravishing in a russet-coloured dress made of one of Spade’s cashmeres. The gathered bodice and high waist emphasized her generous bust. Spade could hardly take his eyes off her. He said: ‘If I can get the band to play a waltz, will you dance it with me?’
‘I’d love to,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know how.’
‘I’ll teach you. I learned in London. It’s easy. There’ll be lots of people learning – it hasn’t been danced before in Kingsbridge.’
‘All right. I hope the clergy won’t be scandalized.’
‘They like being scandalized. It gives them a thrill.’
Spade went to the bandstand and, when the current dance ended, he showed the bandleader a silver crown piece, the equivalent of five shillings, and said: ‘Can you play a waltz?’
‘Of course,’ said the bandleader. ‘But I don’t think Alderman Hornbeam will like it.’
That annoyed Spade, but he forced a smile. ‘Mr Hornbeam doesn’t always get his way,’ he said with suppressed irritation. He held up the coin. ‘Up to you,’ he said.
The bandleader took the money.
Spade returned to Arabella. ‘It goes ONE two three, ONE two three. You step back with your left foot, then sideways and back with your right, then draw your feet together, like those foreigners who click their heels as they bow.’ He stood in front of her, not touching, and they did the steps together.
Arabella got the idea quickly. ‘It really isn’t difficult,’ she said. She was bright-eyed and eager, and Spade began to think she might be as much in love with him as he was with her.
No one paid them much attention. At balls such as this people were often seen teaching each other the complicated steps of strictly choreographed dances such as the cotillion, which involved four couples in a square who touched only each other’s hands.
An allemande came to an end, and there was a pause in the music. Normally the bandleader would announce the next dance so that people could get ready, but this time he did not, perhaps fearing that the waltz might be stopped before it got started and he would have to give back his five shillings. The music began with no announcement, but the bumpety-bumpety rhythm was unmistakable. People in the crowd looked puzzled by the unfamiliar music.
